


The Peace of House Kryze: Life & Death

by pretchatta



Series: The Peace of House Kryze [2]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Childbirth, Gen, Korkie Kryze is a Kenobi, Minor Character Death, Pre-Star Wars: The Clone Wars, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:20:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29107698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pretchatta/pseuds/pretchatta
Summary: Bo-Katan would never forget the night her nephew was born.
Relationships: Bo-Katan Kryze & Satine Kryze, Implied Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze
Series: The Peace of House Kryze [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2031922
Comments: 6
Kudos: 24





	The Peace of House Kryze: Life & Death

The hallways were silent and empty as Bo-Katan raced down them. The only sounds she heard were those she made herself; her muffled footsteps, her pounding heartbeat, her panting breaths that echoed off the inside of her helmet. She ran, following the gruesome trail of blaster-scorched bodies. Guards, servants, droids... No-one had escaped him. 

_Figures in a dark room, surrounded by ransacked storage lockers and overturned crates._

_“There are only five of us. We’re lucky to have our armour and jetpacks, but we’re out of explosives and low on ammo. How are we supposed to keep fighting with no weapons?”_

_The tallest of them stepped right up to her face, close enough to see the markings of House Vizsla on his helmet._

_“A Mandalorian with a jetpack_ is _a weapon. Remember that, Bo-Katan. I won’t stop fighting until I’m dead.”_

She rounded a corner just in time to see a grey blur disappear around the next bend. The maidservant lying on the floor stirred weakly, but she had no time to stop. She was gaining on him, and she couldn’t afford to let him reach his target.

_Te Vizsla clipped the half-empty ammo packs the others passed him to his belt and checked his blaster._

_“I’ll go in alone. The Duchess needs dealing with, one way or another. If I don’t make it back, go into hiding, bide your time. I know my son has the strength to lead our House; eventually, the old ways will rise again. But I will do everything in my power to remove the weakness from Mandalore.”_

_She was horrified. “Assassination? Where’s your honour? You can’t do it like this -- it is not the way!”_

_He paused what he was doing to turn his head towards her._

_“She does not deserve an honourable death.”_

_Bo-Katan was unable to form the words of her argument, but it simmered in her veins. Her sister deserved honour._

The sounds of grunts and blaster fire reached her from around the next corner. She rounded it and saw a figure dressed in full Mandalorian armour dart through a door, the second guard falling to the ground in his wake. She vaulted over the body and entered the room after her prey, drawing her pistol from its holster.

_She was at the point of flaring her jetpack’s thrusters, ready to shoot into the night sky above her, when a voice from behind made her pause._

_“Do you have a gun?”_

_“No. But I’ll stop him with my bare hands if I have to.”_

_She turned to the woman behind her. Only three warriors hadn’t at any point been imprisoned; the two of them, and Pre. Yes, it meant that they’d been able to break the others out, but it had given them more than that. After so much time spent fighting alone together, they didn’t need words to understand each other._

_“Take mine, it still has a few charges left.”_

_“Ursa... Thank you.”_

_“If anyone can stop him, it’s you.”_

Inside, low lighting created a soft atmosphere in the comfortable sitting room. Upholstered recliners, delicate wooden tables and embroidered rugs were scattered tastefully over the floor, surrounded by bookshelves. She paid it no mind, nor did she take notice of the two surprised figures by the window. She was focused only on the armoured Mandalorian directly in front of her. 

Bo-Katan raised her blaster -- Ursa’s blaster -- and fired.

Two shots sounded; she was a split second too late. Her bolt found its mark, just below his helmet where his armour didn’t cover his neck, and his body crumpled to the ground, but one of the figures from the window was falling too.

“ _No!_ ” The shriek snapped her head around to its source.

The two women had been looking out of the window when the assassin had entered. In their elegant robes, blonde hair swept back into simple buns, they looked remarkably similar from behind, even being of a similar height. The biggest difference between the two was their girth, and having only a moment to take aim, Vizsla had struck between the shoulder blades of the slender one before she even had a chance to turn around.

Now, Bo-Katan looked in horror at the lifeless body of her sister. Duchess Satine Kryze of Mandalore slumped face-down on the floor, the scorched wound in her back still smoking. 

She was dead, and it was Bo-Katan’s fault.

She was too late.

Satine’s companion, the one who had screamed, had dropped to her knees and was desperately trying to gather Satine in her arms. She struggled around the bulk of her own swollen belly, her movements clumsy and awkward. 

Bo-Katan crossed the room in a single stride, removing and discarding her helmet along the way. “Satine,” she whispered in anguish, knowing even as she reached out that there was nothing they could do. She knew a killing shot when she saw one.

The woman, now cradling the body, raised her head at Bo-Katan’s voice. “You,” she spat, her voice laced with venom. “What have you done?”

Bo-Katan froze, half-crouched with an arm outstretched, because that face... _That_ was Satine.

So who had Vizsla shot?

She looked down at the limp form in Satine’s arms, glazed eyes seeing nothing. It was her sister; but not Satine. Her stomach roiled with horror.

_She wasn’t supposed to be here._

“Cyara.” Her throat was so tight it came out as a croak.

_I was supposed to protect her._

“Out. Get _out!_ ” Satine screamed at her. Bo-Katan took a few shaky steps back, still processing what had just happened.

“I -- I was trying to stop him -- he was after you, Satine, but I --”

“This is your fault! You -- you should have -- you didn’t --”

“I tried to stop him! I didn’t mean for this to happen!”

“You didn’t -- it _happened_ , Bo! This isn’t a game, you signed up with the enemy of our family, you created a _war_ , and now --” her voice cracked, and she let out a small sob before stifling it to continue. “This is on you. Just leave! Get out, go!” 

As Bo-Katan turned to obey, Satine let out a scream of pain. It took a moment for her to realise it wasn’t over the loss; she turned to look back at Satine and rather than holding their sister’s body, she was doubled over, clutching her swollen belly.

A sudden realisation struck her as she made sense of the shape of it -- _Satine is pregnant._

“Satine!” She crossed the floor back to her sister’s side, but hesitated short of reaching out to her. “What’s wrong?”

“I think the baby’s coming,” she panted. “But you’ve done enough. You should go, my handmaidens will help me.” She waved a hand at her sister, but the armoured woman didn’t move.

“Satine, there’s no-one left. Vizsla killed everyone in this building. I’ll have to take you away, to one of the hospitals.”

“No! There’s no time. And --” Satine looked up at her with pleading eyes as she continued in a small voice, “no-one can know.” 

Bo-Katan knew she should leave. She knew Satine needed real medical attention -- she was no substitute for a midwife. But her sister was in pain, and Bo-Katan was causing it, and for once, she could do something that would disappoint one of her family members. Against her better judgement, Bo-Katan relented.

With difficulty, she helped her sister to her feet.

“Where’s your room?” she grunted. “You need to lie down.”

“There’s a medcenter -- I’ll show you.”

Supporting her sister, Bo-Katan let Satine direct her back down the corridors. The evidence of Vizsla’s gruesome massacre still littered the floors; bodies, droid parts and blaster-bolt scorches. Satine kept her head perfectly still, always focused at the far end, and only a slight tremble gave away her distress. 

They entered a room that had clearly been prepared for her, from the tiny cot that sat next to the only medical bed. The events of this night might have triggered her labour, but she could not have been far off her natural due date.

Bo-Katan tried to help her into the bed, but was interrupted by the scream of another contraction. Satine gripped the bed’s railings with white-knuckled fists as her face contorted with pain.

“I’m not lying down, not yet,” she said in a hoarse voice, waving her hand dismissively.

Leaving her sister weakly pacing by the bed, Bo-Katan moved to the far corner of the room, where she had spotted a medical droid on standby. She activated it and felt relief wash through her; she was no longer the responsible one. She was also no longer alone with Satine.

The droid took over, taking Satine’s readings and then guiding her through some breathing exercises. Bo-Katan could only watch, unable to offer anything but unwilling to leave. 

The time between the contractions shortened, and then the droid was instructing Satine to lie in the bed. This time, she did not complain, and only gave Bo-Katan a look that said what neither of them could ever have formed into words.

_Please, be here with me._

Deep down, despite everything, they were still sisters.

Bo-Katan helped Satine into the bed before discarding her gloves to hold her sister’s hand. When another contraction came, she let her sister squeeze until her fingertips went purple and she felt like her bones would break, but she didn’t complain. She only held on.

“You are progressing quickly,” the droid commented. “Soon, you will need to start pushing.”

Another one. The droid had hooked her up to various scanners and monitors, but Bo-Katan wouldn’t have known what they’d meant even if she’d had the mental space to try to work it out. She just watched, and held her sister’s hand. 

The artificial voice told Satine to push.

Satine screamed, her face red, wisps of hair sticking to her neck with sweat. 

“I can’t,” she choked, “I can’t do this, Bo’ika, it’s too much.” Tears were rolling down her cheeks, and they weren’t just from physical pain.

“Yes, you can. You’re strong, you always have been.”

Satine only screamed.

Bo-Katan’s ears were ringing by the time her sister’s cries were joined by another. Satine fell silent, heaving breaths of relief. 

“It’s a boy,” came the droid’s monotone announcement. “You must hold him.”

The last thing Bo-Katan had been expecting was for the droid to shove a small, warm, wriggling bundle into her arms, and she accepted the blanketed newborn automatically before she realised she was doing it. The droid didn’t pause to explain, it just went back to Satine to guide her through the afterbirth, following its programming and completely unaware that it had just given a weapon of death a helpless new life.

Holding the baby, watching her sister fight for life, Bo-Katan resolved to do what she could to make up for the mess she had partially created. 

When the droid was finished and went to start its cleaning protocol, Bo-Katan approached the bed.

“Do you want to hold your son?”

Satine nodded, tears forming in her eyes again, and reached out to take the bundle. Even Bo-Katan was moved by the reverent look on her sister’s face as she looked down at the tiny, wrinkled face.

“I’m sorry for what I said earlier,” Satine said quietly. “The war -- it’s not your fault. I don’t blame you for it. I was just angry and --”

“I understand. But it doesn’t change the fact that we are enemies now.”

“Do we have to be?”

Bo-Katan looked away. “I should leave. And you need to rest.”

The medical facility had been prepared as a maternity ward, so everything mother and baby needed was on hand. It had also been given some additions, no doubt by Satine’s former head of security, that would be more at home in a war zone, but Bo-Katan was grateful for their risk aversion. She left the droid with orders to sedate Satine and put her in the waiting bacta tank before going to deal with the bodies. 

First, she went to her baby sister, closing the sightless eyes and carefully gathering the body in her arms. She gently placed her on Satine’s now-vacant birthing bed, and covered her with a sheet.

Next she had to cover her own presence here. Back at the door to the sitting room, she guessed from the stripes of rank on his shoulder plates which guard was Satine’s captain and dragged him inside. He had died with his weapon drawn, so it was a simple matter to position the body with the barrel pointing at Vizsla. It told a gruesome story of a dedicated warrior using his final moments to protect his Duchess.

Her final act was performed back in the now-silent medcenter. She extended her wristblade and carefully aimed a blow to the back of the medical droid’s head, smiling with grim satisfaction at the sight of its memory circuits crackling and shorting out. She took one last look at her sister, still suspended in fluid behind the glass, and her nephew, his wrinkled red face peaceful as he slept in the antenatal medcot, before turning away from the room and heading back to the main entrance. 

She still believed that Satine was wrong and her government needed to fall, but there would always be a part of her that would protect her family. Tonight, she had helped, but she vowed to herself that it was the last time. She would keep her sister’s secrets, but she would not aid her again.

Launching herself into the night air, she didn’t look back as her jetpack sped her away from her only family.

**Author's Note:**

> I know this was a slight time jump, but the next work in the series will fill in the gaps.
> 
> As always, I'd love to hear what you thought of it! You can also [find me on tumblr](https://pretchatta.tumblr.com/).


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